Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eurythmics to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
The Happenings,
Parry Music,
Black Bananas,
Shoche,
Hoover,
David McCallum,
Alice Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
Nas,
The Busters,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultra Naté,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sun City Girls,
Pylon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skaos,
The Techniques,
Monolake,
The Leaves,
Bill Near,
Ohio Players,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DNA,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wasted Youth,
Talk Talk,
Roger Hodgson,
Faraquet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rapeman,
Harry Pussy,
Godley & Creme,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Move,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Soul Sonic Force,
T. Rex,
June of 44,
the Germs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Khruangbin,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.